Every city (or town or village) expresses its personality (or the cultural personality of its people) and its identity through its buildings, roads, and other pieces of engineering. They are permanent expressions of the local culture.

In the center of the plaza is The Bell. The large iron Bell is covered by a small slanted roof held up by four pillars. These pillars rest upon a square raised foundation. There are small stairs that lead up to the level of foundation. The foundation also has four strong iron loops towards the edges. If one does not know the two traditions, this arrangement makes no sense.

In the western part of the city is a large neighborhood. It is this good sized old walled neighborhood that gives the city is reputation for education, wisdom, and enlightenement. It is called The Quadrangles by locals and those of high education.

Coastside Park—the ultimate haven away from urban chaos—was deeded to the people over one hundred years ago out of the prescient notion that the city folk would one day feel overcrowded. The city has spilled over three sets of defensive walls and is now reaching water to water on its hilly sandy peninsula. This foresight proved invaluable.

Hexagon Plaza is a “zone” in a cluster, not far from a gate. This is because gips are herded to the plaza, the shortest distance possible is the best for creatures, handlers, and people nearby. Note: For this area to make sense, check out the Encyclopedia Kernnica for details on gips, hard and soft leather.

In more magical areas, not all the citizens are full sized and landwellers. In worlds where pixies, nixies, gnomes, lepracauns, faeries and other fey, batkin, catkins, and ratkins, all exist, there will often be Cotery Neighborhoods in the city.

Somewhere towards the mountains, something subterranean occured. A while later and many miles away, the two large eastern quarters in the city change. The soil became damp for reasons beyond divination.

It seems like nothing more than Walls, Gates, and two long windy roads. The Walls are nearly taller than the city walls. The Gates, they are manned with real soldiers. You can’t see what is going on here. They don’t want you to see either.

The courier looked at the address again. It did not make any sense. There was no Skydistrict street in the southern part of the city, or any part of the city. He jumped a bit when he saw a winged figure fly over his head. His eye followed the figure up to the tall towers above the buildings. He had seen them over city the city. He thought they were decorations. He was wrong. Scratching his head, he wondered how he was going to get up there.

The Grey District was once a prosperous inner district in The Hill City of Frankard. It is an erriely silent place now, where people make little in the way of noise or light. It’s district walls are now painted with a Grey Line, a warning as to plague. However, it is not the plague you would expect.

The City Fathers decided decades ago to build a Grand Temple. The Faiths gave their blessing. Taxes were raised. Land was purchased and dedicated. Supplies began to be procured. People poured in to do the work. The Broken Ground is the neighborhood around the construction site.

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The undead masters

A land is reigned by a circle of powerful men who control every aspect of the citizen's life. This cabal changes members often. In reality, the spectres of a small necromantic covent possess and control the people in power. Since they simply possess the bodies, they can leave when old age overcomes their shells and possess a new up-and-coming noble.